Through the Eyes of Innocents
by TikiCat
Summary: Kovu was once a gentle, caring cub, full of life and love. This is his story, and how Zira changed him forever. Story takes place before Kovu and Kiara meet as teens. Rated T for content and dark themes. Written by Zorayda of the TikiCat team.
1. Prologue

I was once told by an old lioness that rain was like life. Water flowed through the lands and made them come alive, vibrant and healthy. That crippled old coot was probably senile.

The mud squished underneath my paws, squeezing through my toes and staining them a clay red. The shelter above my head leaked and dripped even more of the disgusting mud onto my fur, as well as my sister's and half-brother's. My mother never slept with us—I often wondered where she went at night, but was never clever enough to follow her. She could disappear like a wisp when she wanted to. The other pride lionesses (if you could call this a pride) huddled together under the spots of roof that didn't leak. Rain should be a blessing, but when it pours down for days and drowns the life that was there, it seems more like a curse. The water carved into our measly home and washed away most of the termites, and as the water ran, it stagnated into horrible dirt pools that smelled.

Vitani grunted as I mashed my small body against her bony one. We were both technically twins, but we didn't look anything like it. Nuka looked more like me, with his fur color and stuff, but I'd always been kinda curious about why Vitani got the colors she had. No lion I knew had blue eyes or had such dark whisker follicles like she did, and no lioness had that long hair tuft like she had. She's always been kinda weird like that, though, and not just in looks. Nuka hated that I looked anything like him and enjoyed denying that we had the same mother. Which was all the same to me—Nuka annoyed everyone. I often tried to get along with him, inviting him to play and everything, but it seemed like he was too jealous. Mother played favorites with me and it made me feel real guilty, and Nuka would always rub it in. I stopped asking him to play after a while.

A lone figure slunk between the huddled mass of fur and limbs, picking its way towards us. It was our mother, ears drooping with the rain and looked skinnier than a drowned ground squirrel. She had sort of a blank look on her face, eyes half closed and her muzzle relaxed into a soft frown. She almost looked… sad. But then she caught my eye and Mother immediately went back into the constant scowl she wore.

"Why are you still awake? You know we must train at sunrise, no matter the weather," she snapped, eyes sharp. I immediately cowered into a submissive posture, eyes lowered and ears tucked flat against my head. A few seconds went by and nothing happened, so I dared a peek upwards to see that she'd moved to lie behind my snoozing sister and brother, her face falling into the sad look I'd seen her doing a minute ago. I pretended not to notice and curled up against my sister again. I allowed myself a secret smile—this was the first time I'd ever seen my mom lie down with us at night. Maybe she always did it after we'd been asleep for a while and left before we woke up? It didn't really make any sense… she always acted like we were in the way.

'_Maybe she cares about us,'_ I thought hopefully, and with that happy thought I fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 1

My muscles burned as I ran. I pushed and pushed, stumbling over my too-big paws every once in a while, as my mother shouted and trotted alongside me and effortlessly keeping up. I felt like I was gonna die of exhaustion as she pushed me to go faster, faster, a mad gleam in her scarlet eyes.

This is just a regular day for me. I've been doing this training since I could stumble around on all fours, and for what, I'm still not entirely sure. I know that Simba, the current king of the Pridelands, killed Scar, who was my mom's mate or something, and he was the rightful king. Mother said he was kind and intelligent, and created a partnership between hyenas and lions, as well as overthrowing the previous king who was some kind of tyrant. She said Scar's reign was tough because nobody liked that he'd changed up the rules and befriended hyenas, and that there was a terrible drought that nearly killed everyone and made them all angry.

That Simba lion must have been really mean and everything, but I really still don't know what it has to do with me. But if I tried telling that to my mother, I am one hundred percent certain she'd chase me down and murder me. She's a _little_ crazy about that dead Scar guy.

I finally stumbled horribly and fell face-first into the ground, but I was so tired that I couldn't even twitch my legs to get up. I groaned miserably as Mother wheeled around.

"Come on, miserable brat! Are you telling me you can't do better than that? Where is your enthusiasm, your drive? You must become strong, you must!" She screamed, but I couldn't obey her commands any more than a hyena could use logic. My tail wiggled in answer and she growled softly.

"We will focus on stealth instead, then. Since you're unable to withstand my endurance training, we'll have to make do with something else. And stand up straight, whelp!"

I knew what was coming next, but couldn't do anything about it. Her huge paw swatted me harshly and I tumbled end over end, stopping and landing belly-up. The mud seeped into my fur and the rain fell on me, trickling up my nose and making me blink my eyes a lot. I really, really hated the rain. Normally I'd be hot and miserable, but now I was hot, miserable, sticky, and muddy. Mother's face loomed above mine, her eyes crazed, but she had that look that she gets when she gives up on my training for a little while. Still growling, she rolled me over and grabbed me none too gently between her jaws. I was transported to my waiting half-brother, who was currently whining about the rain.

"When is this stupid rain gonna let up?" he grumbled. Vitani, sitting nearby, simply rolled her eyes. She did that a lot. Nuka's wiry mane didn't flatten very much, due to its thickness, but the water began to bead off of the tips and drip onto his face and make his whiskers droop.

I chose not to answer him, whether out of lack of interest or sheer exhaustion, I don't really know. Mother snarled at Nuka before stalking elsewhere, clearly annoyed with the three of us. I leaned heavily against my sister, and, in one of her rare moments of kindness, she allowed me to stay there. I closed my eyes to the harsh, wet wasteland and took a nap.

Three days later, my mother is laughing in hysterical joy as I finally master a silent pounce. She has been training me nonstop for this time, and since then, the rain had stopped and left nothing but dry desert once more. A few plants had grown, but not enough to entice the herbivores… and the rain had only served to drown half of the termites we all survived off of. Even as a cub of 'special' stature, extra termites didn't really help to snuff out the hunger we all tried to ignore.

I am snapped out of my thoughts as Mother scoops me up into her bony chest, crushing me there with what she apparently thought was affection. She'd never been very good at touching anyone without hurting them, it seemed. After she crooned awhile and sang my praises, Mother let me go, allowing me to get some air into my poor squashed lungs. I simply smiled gently up at her, nodded at random intervals and agreeing with what she was saying. Most of the time, she just ranted to herself anyway. I'm still not sure _why_ I have to train so much…

Today, though, I'd finally managed to pounce upon a ground squirrel and catch it by surprise. Mother didn't seem to notice that I hadn't actually killed it, since she was too busy marveling at the fact that I'd been totally silent all the while. Being stealthy takes a lot of work and coordination, and since I didn't have much coordination, it had been double the work. Lots of practice went into the skill, and probably would later when I grew into a bigger body.

I just dread the day when she actually makes me _kill_ something.

I don't think I could ever stomach it, having to end someone's life. Even if it were a butterfly, or a tadpole… it just seems so wrong, so _backwards_—like someone twisting your leg behind you. It's unnatural, or something. It's weird, because I'm a lion cub, who will grow up to kill and eat stuff… but I just don't see why I _have_ to. Why can't I just wait until a zebra dies because it got too old? Howcome I can't just live on termites? Sure, the itchy pests are living things that must die for me to eat 'em, but it's better than something bigger and smarter, I think. Is that right to say? I dunno.


End file.
